


We're the Bad Guys

by ShenanigansEnsue



Series: Shenanigans and Imagines [62]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Order!Reader - Freeform, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShenanigansEnsue/pseuds/ShenanigansEnsue
Summary: From the day you were born, you were taught the rebels and their New Republic were the bad guys. But, after you crash land on a remote moon with only the Resistance’s poster boy for company, things begin the change. ON HIATUS.





	1. Chapter 1

         “Commander, we’re taking heavy fire, please advise,” TN-3577 called into your headset.

         “Keep in formation,” you said calmly.  “We can’t let them get to the freighter.  3895, 3900 and 3902 with me.  The rest, stay with the ship.”

         “Copy that Commander.” 

         As soon as the transmission cut off, you let out a breath of frustration. It was supposed to be a routine escort from one of the mining planets on the edge of First Order space back to the Supremacy.  But, of course, things had to get complicated. General Organa and her little Resistance were growing bolder every day.  This squadron, in particular.  You recognized the lead X-Wing the moment it came out of hyper-space with its distinctive black and orange exterior and tiny orange droid peeking out just behind the cockpit.  Its pilot was particularly reckless, and, much to your dismay, absolutely brilliant.

         “Split off and take the other fighters,” you ordered.  “Leave the leader to me.”

         The three pilots echoed their acknowledgement and plunged straight into the fray.  There were too many of them to declare a decisive victory.  But, you could clear the way and buy the supply ship enough time to make the jump to hyperspace.  

         You lay down fire, making a fast overhead pass before swinging high and away from your squadron.  To your satisfaction, they took the bait and the black X-Wing was right on your tail.

         They lay down fire, missing you by inches.  They were good.  You’d give them that.  But not good enough.  Without warning, you cut your engines, stopping suddenly in space, causing the pilot to pull violently up and over to avoid a collision.  Before they even knew what was happening, you lay down fire on their back while your engines began to reboot.  You managed to clip their wings, causing them to spiral out of control.  A small smile crossed your lips as you prepped for another barrage of fire.  You had them this time.  It was then, they dove suddenly downward and out of your sights.  You cursed under your breath as your engines came back online. Diving, you followed after them.

         Despite the wobbling wings, they still managed to avoid you as you laid down fire.  It was then you noticed where they were heading.  Orbiting the planet was an uninhabited forest moon.  Glancing at the wings, confirmed your suspicions.  They were in more trouble than they were letting on. They were going to make for a landing, hoping the distance away from the battle would force you to meet back with your squadron.

         “Commander, the freighter is ready to jump,” TN-3577 relayed.  

         Your lip tightened.  No. This was your chance to finish it. There was no guarantee you would ever get another opportunity.

         “Go,” you ordered.  “I won’t be far behind.”

         If 3577 had any objections, she didn’t voice them.  Out of the corner of your eye a series of white streaks whipped around the inky black of space and were gone.  

         You turned your attention back to the ship in front of you right at the moment you reached the atmosphere.  Your whole ship shook, and you gripped the controls for dear life.  The X-Wing wasn’t doing much better.  Bits of metal and debris peeled off the ship clipping your wings.  Still, you kept steady and soon the shaking stopped.  The X-Wing pulled out of its dive and shot straight across the tree tops. You followed opening fire on the ship.

         You didn’t know what was holding the X-Wing together at that point besides the pilot’s own will power.  Whoever they were, they were a credit to the profession.  It was a shame you had to blast them out of the sky.

         They went low, using the trees for cover. You never missed a step and weaved through them with ease.  You sent another blast their way, whizzing just over the orange droid’s head. They seemed to realize their plan wasn’t working and pulled upward.  

         You followed, always firing, never letting them forget for a moment you were right behind them.  They kept climbing, further and further up towards space.  

         They couldn’t possibly be trying to get clear for a jump?  The ship wouldn’t survive going through the atmosphere again.

         Your stomach twisted painfully. You felt the sudden urge to call out to the pilot; to warn them of the coming danger.  

         Suddenly the ship stopped.  You launched the ship up and over to avoid a collision, barely having time to register the bolts hitting your wings. You hovered in the air for a handful of seconds before spiraling back towards earth.

         They used your trick.  Kriffing bastard used your own move against you.

         Anger surged through you at your own stupidity as you tried to gain control of your ship.  The cockpit erupted is deafening beeps and red light.  You were too close to the ground for a safe ejection and every attempt to pull the ship out of the dive was useless.  

         The only thing that brought you relief as seeing the X-Wing plunge straight downward. Clearly the pilot had forgotten to take gravity into account when they switched off their engine.

         As the tree line came closer you could only think one thing.

_Let them remember me.  Let them be proud._


	2. Chapter 2

          The smell of burning metal and smoke filled your nose, snapping you back to reality.  Everything was in a haze as muffled alarms blared through the burning wreck that was once your Tie-Fighter.  

          You couldn’t breathe.  In an act of desperation, you yanked off your helmet.  The smoke hit you full force, forcing a hard cough from your lungs.  

          Fighting through the ache in your back and chest, you sat up.  You barely got two inches off the ground before collapsing, sending a spike of pain through your entire body.  You needed to move.  You would suffocate if you didn’t, but every limb was refusing to take orders. 

          Why couldn’t you have just died on impact? At least then you could had gone out with some dignity.  As it stood, all you could do was sit and choke.

          You vision was starting to fade.  The world blinked between blurred and black.  You closed your eyes in a vain attempt to clear your head. When you opened them again, the red of your control board was gone.  

          Above you stood a darkening blue sky with only the tops of trees to interrupt the view. A notion of confusion entered your mind.  It was then you finally noticed a pair of hands tucked under your arms and the sensation of your legs being dragged on the ground.  You came to a stop and black started to enter your vision.

          “Hey. Pilot. Can you hear me?” a muffled voice asked.

          You blinked again.  Now the sky was blocked by handsome man with dark curls and darker eyes.  His brows furrowed in concern as he looked you over.  You might had counted yourself lucky, if it weren’t for the fact he was wearing the orange flight suit of a New Republic X-Wing fighter.

          The world snapped into focus as you jerked away.  Your hand instinctively went to your side, only to find your blaster nowhere in reach.

          “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he assured.  He reached out to you, but you slapped his hand away.  It didn’t deter him.  He only scooted around you, placing a hand on your back to help you upright. You tried to fight him off, but it was an exercise in futility. Your arms were still too weak, and you could feel a steady throb growing in your left leg. 

          He kept his hand on your back to keep you steady as he glanced up at the fading sun.

          “Put your arm around my shoulders,” he instructed.

          You answered with a hateful look, but he only rolled his eyes.

          “It’s either that or I carry you,” he said honestly.

          You stared him down, but, after a moment, you did as he asked. He gave you a small smile of thanks before lifting you to your feet.

          You muffled a cry as you did, the throb in your leg turning into a sharp spike of pain.  If the pilot heard you, he made no mention of it.

          Once you were standing, you finally got a clear view of your ship.  It was damaged beyond repair.  The only reason why it wasn’t worse, was because you had somehow managed to only brush the tops of the trees before crashing into a small clearing.  By all accounts, you shouldn’t have been alive.

          As if feeling your thoughts, the pilot turned your away from the sight and towards the tree line.

          “C’mon, let’s get that leg looked at.”

          His words surprised you.  Hell, every action he had taken had surprised you since the moment you opened your eyes. It was only when he started leading you through the forest did it dawn on you how strange it all was.  Moments ago, this man had made a very clear effort to kill you and you had attempted the same.  And now he was helping you?  What sense did that make?

          Soon enough, you came to another clearing.  Off towards the edge was his ship.  You weren’t sure whether to be impressed or outraged by the sight.

          The pilot had actually managed to land the damn thing.  Sure, it was half buried in the dirt and wouldn’t be lifting off any time soon.  Still, it was salvageable, and he had walked away unharmed.  

          It was at that moment a little orange BB unit blurred into vision beeping and whistling up a storm.  You couldn’t make out a thing it was saying, but the pilot easily translated.

          “I’m fine buddy,” he said with a smile.  “Can you get the med kit from the emergency pack.”

          The droid was taken aback by this comment, looking between you and the pilot with what could only be described as suspicion. It let out an indignant beep.

          “Because they’re hurt, and I said so,” he said.

          The droid then looked to your leg and up your entire body.  It stared at your face for a long while.  You could feel yourself being scrutinized under its tiny gaze.  A part of you wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, but a small part of you knew you had to take it seriously.  You straighten yourself up as best you could and looked right back, never once blinking.

          It then turned back to his master with one last whistle. The pilot then looked at you and back to the droid before shrugging.

          “Beats me too bud.”

          And with that, he guided you to a nearby log watching after your leg the whole time. You wanted to ask what the droid had said but decided against it. You had to protect what dignity you had left.  Asking an enemy soldier what their droid said about you seemed like a silly thing to break your silence over.

          The droid then rolled over, handing the pilot the kit.

          “Thanks BB-8. Any luck?”

          BB-8 gave a sad beep and shook its head.

          “Alright,” the pilot said, “just keep me updated.”

          It gave one last beep, standing tall at being assigned its new mission and rolled away.

          You didn’t need to ask what they were talking about then.  You could see clearly enough distress beacon set up beside the ship. A small bit of hope filled you.  If the pilot had to resort to the distress beacon, it meant his radio was out.  The beacon would have to be set to all frequencies to be effective.  Which meant, the First Order had just as much chance to pick up the transmission as the Resistance.

          “Let’s take a look at that leg,” he said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

          Your eyes narrowed as you moved your injured leg out of his reach.  You let out a hiss in pain at the effort.

          The pilot let out a huff of frustration.  “Your leg needs to be set.  Let me help you.”

          You refused to comply, hitting him with the strongest look of contempt you could muster.

          He got the message.  With some reluctance, he left the med kit on the log beside you and lifted his hands in surrender.

          “Fine.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

          He back away from you to a respectful distance, all while keeping his attention right on you.

          If he thought you were going to cave from stage fright, he was sorely mistaken. With as much care as you could manage, you pulled your boot off your foot. You let out an involuntary cry of pain as you did.  The pilot’s eyes widened at the sound, and he made a move toward you.  You shot him a glare at he did.  There was a long moment of silence before he nodded a took a seat once more.  

          You turned your attention back to your leg. It was more certainly broken. You gathered what supplies that you could from the med kit, and tore a few branches laying on the ground around you.

          “So, what’s your name,” the pilot asked, breaking the silence.

          You didn’t answer right away as you kept your focus on binding your leg.

          “I don’t talk to traitors,” you answered coolly.

          He raised an eyebrow at your answer. “Oh, so you can talk,” he said sardonically. “And here I was thinking all First Order pilots took a vow of silence or something.”

           You said nothing, allowing the silence to speak for itself.

          “Well, I’m Poe, Poe Dameron,” he said conversationally. “I take it you’ve heard of me.”

          The name did surprise you.  Poe Dameron had made quite a reputation for himself.  You had heard his name tossed around casually as the best pilot in General Organa’s not so secret Resistance.  You hated to admit it, but the rumors didn’t do him justice.  Of course, you would never say it to his face.

          “Only in passing,” you answered dryly. 

          “Oh really?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.  “What do they say in passing?”

          “That you’re one of the bad guys.”

          He snorted out a laugh.  “Well there’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

          “Is that so,” you said as you tied the list knot in your splint.  “Who shot me down exactly?”

          “If fairness, you tried to kill me first.”

          “Only because you attacked our ships,” you countered sharply.  You were starting to take issue with how casually he was taking the situation. “Last time I checked, the New Republic and First Order had agreement of nonaggression.”

          His smile faded, and his expression grew serious.  It looked odd on him.  Something told you it wasn’t a look he used often.

          “I don’t act in the name of the Republic.”

          “Of course, you just act in name of Resistance, funded by the New Republic.”

          He didn’t have a ready come back.  His expression grew blank.  You had to wonder if the attack on the supply run was even ordered by General Organa in the first place.  

          “Not to worry Commander,” you said ironically. “Your little indiscretion isn’t going to make the First Order declare war on anyone.  We’re subject to the same technicalities as you are.”

          He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  Good.  Let him be the one of edge for once.  His easy smiles were starting to get on your nerves.

          “How’s your leg?” he asked, changing the subject.

          You huffed out a hollow laugh. “Don’t pretend you care about my well-being.”

          “Who’s pretending?  I saved your life.”

          “Only to ensure your own.”

          “What’s that supposed to mean?”

          You rolled your eyes.  Just how naïve did he think you were?

          “The distress beacon transmits to all frequencies,” you said in a condescending tone. “We’re in First Order space. If you think saving my life will somehow lessen your punishment, you’re sorely mistaken.”

          He stared at you in stunned silence, blinking a few times as he came to grips with what you just said.

          “Wait, you’re telling me that you think I saved your life not because it was the right thing to do, but to save my own skin?” he asked.

          “Yes.”

          The man continued to gape at you.  His ran his hand over his jaw, shaking his head in bewilderment.

          You felt your own uncertainty fill you.  Either he was the greatest actor you had ever met, or he truly didn’t understand why he would save someone for his own gain.  It made you uncomfortable.  You didn’t want his kindness to be sincere.  He was your enemy.  He needed to stay your enemy.

          “So, I take it if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t have done the same?”

          Your stomach twisted unpleasantly.  You didn’t know.  Would you had let him die?  You thought back to a moment during your battle.  You had wanted to reach out to him, to warn him not to jump to hyperspace in a damaged ship.  

          No. It was just a moment of weakness. You couldn’t let him win.  

          “No,” you said stiffly. “I would have let you burn.”

          He stared at you for a long while.  His dark eyes peered into yours, making your insides twist under their scrutiny. After what felt like an eternity, he looked away, shaking his head.

          “I can’t buy that.”

          Your eyes narrowed as frustration started to build within you.  Why couldn’t he just hate you?

          “You don’t know me Commander. I don’t take mercy on my enemies that way you do.”

          His exacerbation only grew. He scoffed. “You really are a piece of work.”

          “I don’t like being patronized,” you said matter-of-factly. “I never asked you to be nice to me and I certainly didn’t ask you to save my life.  Don’t expect me to be grateful.”

          He opened his mouth to say something, but his own anger and frustration was becoming too much.  Shaking his head, he got to his feet and walked away from you.

          Good.  Let him hate you.  It would make everything easier.

          Before you could settle into the new status quo, however, he spun back towards you.  

          “No. You know what? Screw you!” he snapped. “I’m not going to apologize for rescuing you.  Cause I’d do it again, and again, and again because that’s what good people do. That’s what a decent person does.”

          Your eyes widened at his outburst.

          He wasn’t looking for a response.  He had said his piece.  Without another word, he turned around and walked back towards his ship.

          You sat there in awkward silence for a long while.  Guilt began to creep into your thought and stomach.  He was making this so unnecessarily complicated.  

          He was a member of the Resistance.  His parents were undoubtedly rebels.  The same people who had torn the life you should have had away from you. You weren’t his friend.  You could never be his friend.  

          On the other hand, he had saved your life and you were stuck on an alien moon with no clear chance of rescue anytime soon.  You could be spending days, maybe even weeks in each other’s company. Maybe he had the right idea of at least being civil too each other.  

          You watched him as he sorted through supplies, counting out rations, heat blankets and whatever else he could find.  It didn’t slip past your notice how he was making two piles of equal proportion.

          You ran your hand down you face letting out a long sigh.  Unnecessarily complicated indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! If you like this, check out my tumblr @ https://shenanigans-and-imagines.tumblr.com
> 
> Please leave a comment and kudos if you are so inclined.


	3. Chapter 3

        You didn’t move from your spot until the sun had almost disappeared from the sky.  Neither you nor Dameron had said a word to each other since his declaration.  You knew you would have to be the one to break the silence, but you weren’t sure what to say.  Over the years, you had made a point not to find yourself relying on others. 

        Your parent’s words came back to you.

_The galaxy does not dole out favors.  Every debt must be repaid._

        With little to occupy yourself, you had spent the time watching Dameron as he set up camp.  He kept quiet for the most part, occasionally talking with his droid and making trips off into the surrounding forest for firewood.  If he noticed you staring, he didn’t mention it.  His droid, however, was not so inclined.  Every now and again, its little round head would turn to you beeping and whistling in an accusatory tone.  You paid it little mind.

        Just as the sky finally turned from purple to inky black, the sparks of a fire could be seen across the clearing.  Dameron sat on a log near the fire poking at it idly with a stick.  A box sat across from it at a comfortable distance from the flames.  The intent was obvious, but he made no attempt to call you over.  

        You tried to resist.  Your flight suit would keep you warm enough, or so you told yourself.  

        A cold wind hit the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and across your chest. Goosebumps were forming under your suit.  You let out a shuttered breath.  Even your gloved hands were getting cold. Your entire body screamed for you to move closer to the flames, but your pride refused.  You were not going to give Dameron the satisfaction.

        It was then you saw him get up from his seat and walk towards the forest.

        You waited a few seconds for him to return.  

        A silence came over the clearing, broken only by the crackle of the fire. It was so close.  You glanced back to the tree line.  

        Nothing.

        You gave in and pushed yourself off the log. Your leg clenched in pain with every staggered limp.  Your face contorted in pain, holding back your cries as you inched closer. After what felt like an entirety, you reached the fire.

        Your entire body sighed with relief the moment you sat down.  Your leg still ached from walking, but at least you were warm. Without thinking, you pulled off your gloves, and held them in front of the fire.  Feeling was starting to return to them as you clench and unclenched them for circulation.

        You caught a rustle of movement out of the corner of your eye.  Your body stiffened for a fight as you turned toward the forest.  You needn’t had bothered. Dameron stood before you holding a rather large branch at his side and wearing a concerned look.  

        “Don’t tell me you walked here by yourself,” he asked.

        You rolled your eyes. “Well, I didn’t teleport.”

        He opened his mouth in disbelief, before shaking his head.

        “Guess I got this for nothing,” he said, indicating the branch.  Never the less, he set it beside you.  Upon closer inspection, you saw it was the perfect height for a walking stick.  You blinked in surprise and lay it across your lap.  Had he really gone into the forest, at night to get you a walking stick?  You looked up to see him going through one of the survival packs.  He then crossed back over and silently held out a food packet.  

        Despite wanting nothing more than to shove it back in his face, your body betrayed you.  Your stomach twisted at the possibly of food and your hand reached for it before you could tell it otherwise.

        The pilot gave a small nod and turned to his side of the camp.  He didn’t expect anything from you, and, for some reason, that bothered you.  Without thinking, you gave a small sincere, “Thank you.”

        He paused, staring at you in stun silence.  Then, slowly, a sideways smile curled on his lip.  He didn’t say anything. He only huffed out a small chuckle before taking a seat across from you, the smile never leaving him.  You were grateful he hadn’t made a scene. You were certain your pride couldn’t handle it.

        You took a bite.  It wasn’t the worst thing you had ever eaten, but it wasn’t the best.  Still, it did its job and sated you.  

        Dameron pulled out a packet of his own, but stopped just before he took his first bite.  

        “Oh, almost forgot,” he said, breaking the silence.  He pulled a bag out of the darkness and tossed it over to you. “Thought you’d might like this back.”

        You caught it, trying to suppress the surprise on your face.  Opening the bag, you found an assortment of things which could had only come from your ship.  

        The first thing you found was your helmet.  It was surprisingly intact with only a handful of scraps along the sides. Next was an assortment of food packets and medical supplies.  Some of the sides were burnt and ash stained, but there was enough for a few days. Finally, at the bottom, was an emergency compact blaster.  

        Your heart rate suddenly spiked.  Slowly, you reached your hand into the bag, mindful not to let Dameron see what was inside.  Upon picking it up, you immediately noticed something was off. It was too light.  Turning it over, you saw the battery packs were missing.  You looked up to see Dameron giving you a sly grin. Without a word, he slipped his hand behind his back and pulled out the battery packs.

        “I’m not stupid, pilot,” he said, cheerfully.

        You let out a huff, letting the bag drop to the ground.  “You could have fooled me.”

        He grinned, brushing off the insult with a short laugh.  

        “You know, I still don’t know you name,” he said, opting to change the subject.

        “And you won’t.”

        “Well, I can’t just keep calling you, Pilot.”

        You shrugged, making it clear that “pilot” was all he was going to get.

        His expression was a perfect mix of humor and exasperation as he rolled his eyes. “Alright, Pilot, answer me this; what kind of person packs a survival bag with absolutely nothing personal inside?”

        “The efficient kind.”

        He shook his head.  “See, I don’t buy that.  I know pilots.”

        “Do you?”

        “You bet.  And they don’t go anywhere without something; a good luck charm, holos of loved ones, whatever.  And if it’s not in their survival pack, it’s on their person.”

        You jaw twitched at the observation.  He wasn’t wrong.  Even in the First Order where such superstitions were looked down upon, even Stormtroopers had small mementos either in their Tie-fighters on in their packs at all times.  

        “It could just be in my pocket,” you offered.

        “No, I checked that.”

        Your eyes narrowed, as a sudden feeling of being violated washed over you.

        Dameron seemed to catch your thoughts as he threw his hands up in defense. “I needed to make sure you weren’t going to stab me.”

        “Has that happened?”

        “A few times,” he said, with a little too charming of a smile.  “So, how come you don’t have anything?”

        Your expression remained completely blank even as your stomach twisted and the need to escape took hold of you.  “Nothing worth having,” you said, simply.

        Your answer caught him off guard, as his head cocked curiously to the side. “Don’t you have a family?”

        “Yes.”

        “And you don’t even keep a holo of them?”

        You had to roll your eyes at that. “They’re soldiers.  They’re not sentimental.”

        “So were mine,” he countered.

        You stared at him in confusion as he reached into his flight suit.  From around his neck, he pulled out a long chain. Dangling on the end, was a single gold ring.

        “My mom’s,” he explained.

        You weren’t sure how to respond.  It was too personal an item to share with a stranger.  He was getting too familiar.  

        “And that’s your good luck charm?” you said, skeptically.

        He grinned, tucking the ring back under his shirt. “I’ve had a good track record so far.”

        “Until today.”

        He didn’t say anything right away, taking the time to look up idly into the sky. “Well, I think that depends on who picks us up first.”

        You weren’t sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by his optimism, and so settled for something in the middle. “Whatever makes you sleep better.”

        “They’ll come,” he said with conviction.  “Resistance doesn’t leave their own behind.”

        “And you assume the First Order does?”

        He turned his eyes away from the heavens and back to you, giving you an ironic smile. “You said yourself, you weren’t raised to be sentimental.”

        Your entire body bristled at the implication.  “They’ll come,” you said, sharply. “And you won’t be able to luck your way out of it.”

        “Never say never, Pilot,” he countered, looking all too pleased at his ability to get under your skin.

        You let out a frustrated sigh, making a point not to look at him.  You wished the First Order would just get here already.  You weren’t sure how much more of Commander Dameron’s company you could take.

        “Can I ask you another question,” he asked.  

        “No,” you said blankly.

        “Okay, you ask me one.”

        “What makes you think I want to know anything about you?”

        “Mutual curiosity?” he said, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Believe it or not, I don’t get shot down that often.  Personally, I’d like to get the know the person who actually did it.”

        It was a trap.  You knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself.  The man was utterly baffling.  There had to be something about him you could understand.

        “Fine,” you conceded.  “Why aren’t you still with the Republic Navy?”

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean, you’re a brilliant pilot.”  

        His face lit up at the comment.  He opened his mouth to speak, but you stopped him with a raised hand. “It’s not a compliment, it’s an observable fact,” you continued.  “Your parents were obviously rebellion.  They fought for your future.  You undoubtedly had a promising career ahead of you in your New Republic, but you left. For what? Glory of a different kind?”

        “I’m not in it for the glory,” he defended.

        “Then what exactly?”

        He took a breath, running a hand through his hair.  He seemed to do that whenever he needed to gather his thoughts, or was frustrated.  You suspected this time it was a combination of the two.

        “My parents were rebels,” he said, carefully. “They fought against the Empire to bring peace to the galaxy.  That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

        You shook your head.  He truly was a fool.  “You’re fighting for chaos.”

        His eyes narrowed at your tone.  “You’re the one declaring war on us.”

        “Your Republic can’t even decide if they want to fight us or not. Seems pretty chaotic to me.”

        “At least we don’t terrorize innocent people into submission.”

        “Members of the First Order weren’t terrorized into anything,” you said, somehow managing to keep you voice calm. “The Empire was peaceful under the Emperor’s rule. We seek to restore that peace.  It was you rebels who escalated things.”

        He laughed.  It was a dark, hollow sound, completely alien from his easy features.  It disturbed you.  “Is that what they taught you in First Order history class?” he asked sarcastically.

        Your jaw tightened, as all the stories you had been told over the years poured into your mind, threatening to drown you in their depths.  He didn’t know you.  He couldn’t possibly understand.

        “It’s what my parents saw,” you stated.

        The building anger on Dameron’s face dissipated at your words.  What was left was begrudging understanding. “Well, my parents saw something else.”

        “So that’s why you fight,” you asked, “to prove your parents right?”

        “No.” He was firm in that.  The confidence was back as he met your gaze with determined eyes. “I fight because not fighting, when you know people are getting hurt, makes you just as bad as the people doing the hurting.”

        You wanted to laugh at his almost child-like naiveté, but you couldn’t.  It was too honorable a notion.  

        “Why do you?” he asked.

        “I fight for the life I should have been mine.”

        You froze at your own words.  You hadn’t meant to answer him.  Why you fought was your own business.  But you had answered.  How was he getting you to talk so easily?

        “Is that the one you wanted or the one your parents wanted for you?”

        Your eyes hardened at the question.  Too familiar.

        “Don’t pretend you know me,” you said, darkly. “You have no idea what the rebellion took from us.”

        “Enlighten me then.”

        You said nothing.  You didn’t have to explain to him.  You didn’t owe him anything.

        He let out a long-frustrated sigh. “You’re a stubborn pilot, I’ll give you that.”

        “That makes two of us.”

        There was a long silence.  It wasn’t comfortable, but it didn’t hold the tension you had thought it would.  

        This had been the longest conversation you had had with anyone since you could remember.  You hadn’t given Dameron much, but, it was more than you had ever told anyone.  Then again, you couldn’t think of a time anyone had asked.  

        There was a shift in the silence.  Both of you felt it. An understanding had passed between you even if neither of you knew what it meant.

        Suddenly, a long howl pierced the air, echoing in the clearing.

        “What was that?” you asked, spinning your head around in an attempt to locate the sound.  

        Another howl came, shorter and pain ridden.  Somewhere in the distance other creatures answered.  They seemed to be at all side around the clearing while at the same time, being a distance away.

        “I don’t know,” Poe said, turning his attention to the tree line.  

        The painful howl came back.  It was closer than the others, but you couldn’t pin point where.

        Dameron stood up, grabbing a lantern as he went.  “BB-8 keep an eye on them,” he ordered, before turning to you.  “Stay here.”

        “Wait, Dameron,” you protested.  But it was too late, he was already in the trees.

        “Dameron!”

        He didn’t respond. Silence filled the air, interrupted only by the wind and distant howls.  

        His droid cooed an uneasy whistle.  You understood the sentiment, exactly.

_Let him go_ , your mind told you.   _If he wants to die in the forest let him.  It’s his choice.  This has nothing to do with you._  

        You stared out into the darkness.  The painful howl sounded once more, louder and more feral than before.  

        You gritted your teeth, knowing what you had to do.

_Every debt must be repaid._

        “Damn it.”  

        You stood, grabbing your walking stick and empty blaster from your bag.

        “C’mon,” you told the droid.

        It beeped in understanding, following you into the woods.

        If the resistant pilot got you killed, you were going to haunt him in the afterlife. 


	4. Chapter 4

       The little orange droid lit the way as you stumbled through the darkness. It’s match barely gave off enough light to see even a foot in front of you, and yet, you pressed on, relying on your ears to make up the difference.  

       It was shockingly silent.  You could hear every broken leaf beneath your feet.  The small, unsure trills of the droid sounded deafening in comparison.

       “Dameron!”

       No answer came. Your gut twisted.  There was no way he could have missed your voice.

       BB-8 gave its own loud whistle.  All it did was disturb some birds high up in the tree tops.

       The droid let out a low whine, twisting its head from side to side uncertainly.

       “Yeah,” you mumbled.  “Me too.”

       It was then you heard growl from the creature in the distance, followed by a surprised yelp.

       “Dameron!” you called.  Ignoring the pain in your leg, you ran towards the sound.

       The droid was faster, rolling as fast as its little body could carry it. Still, you managed to keep up stopping at a small clearing.

       Dameron was on his back. Barely a foot in front of him, was a large canine creature.  

       Its short jet black fur was stretched tightly over a muscled frame. It’s eyes, the same color, only distinguished by their gleam against the orange light of the droid’s tiny flame. Its fangs were barred, and its body ready to pounce.

       You didn’t think.  You grabbed the nearest heavy object you could find, a fallen branch, and pulled back ready to throw it at the creature.  It wouldn’t give you much time, but maybe enough to get Dameron to his feet, and, more importantly, to the battery pack he still had in his pocket.

       “Don’t!” Poe shouted.

       You stopped, stunned into silence.  BB-8 seemed to match your tone, as it gave an uncertain beep.

       “It’s okay,” he assured.

       You didn’t know if he was addressing you or the creature, but neither one of you were convinced.

       Slowly, Poe rose to his feet.

       The creature snapped its jaws.  You raised your weapon higher just as BB-8 switch its match for a taser.

       “Stop,” Poe repeated, this time clearly directing his orders to you. “He’s not going to hurt anyone.”  He gestured to the creature, and it was then you understood.

       Its back paw was tangled in jumble of vines weighted down by a large slab of metal plating, hidden amongst the fallen branches.  Judging by its black exterior, it had come from your ship.  

       “Good,” you said, failing to keep the relief out of your voice.  “Let’s get out of here.  Undoubtedly it was calling its pack.”

       You turned to leave, but quickly realized you weren’t being followed. Looking back around, Dameron stood exactly where he had been with BB-8 still by his side. He then took a small step forward and crept closer to the creature.

       “Dameron,” you hissed.  “Let’s go.”

       “We can’t just leave him here,” Poe said, keeping his hands up where the creature could see them.

       “You might not be able to.”

       “Fine, head back to camp then.”

       You jaw tightened.  You should leave.  He was giving you permission to leave.  If he wanted to get his hand bitten off by some alien creature, that was on him, not you. But, you didn’t leave.  Instead, you followed Poe’s steps and limped toward the creature.

       Its eyes went to you.  A low growl rumbled in its throat.

       Poe moved himself into the creature’s eyeline.

       “Shhh, it’s okay,” he said in a low voice.  “They’re more bark then bite.”

       You felt mildly insulted by the statement but weren’t in a position to argue.

       Poe kept in view of the creature at all times, humming and speaking soft nothings in a low voice.

       “We’re going to get you out of here.  It’s going to be fine.”

       He directed BB-8 to the vines.  The droid produced a tiny buzz saw.  The initial whirl caused the creature to snap and twist wildly, but Poe managed to calm it down enough for BB-8 to continue its work.

       You watched all of it in awe.  You had to wonder if Poe was somehow connected to the force.  It would explain his impressive piloting skills and his strange ability to communicate his exact intentions to a wild creature.

       You felt yourself moving closer.  The creature’s body stiffened, but it had lost some of its hostility toward you.

       You knelt beside the tangle of vines BB-8 was working on.  Before you fully realized what you were doing, you began pulling at the vines as well, untying what you could and helping BB-8 cut those you couldn’t.

       You knew Dameron was looking at you, but he made no comment of your actions. Not that there was anything to comment on.  The sooner the creature of loose, the sooner the three of you would head back to camp.  Or so, you kept telling yourself.

       BB-8 gave a little excited beep and pulled away as the last vine dropped.

       The creature leapt out of its bonds, forcing you to fall back.  It half ran half crawled away, making sure to keep its distance from you and Dameron, before laying down on the other end of the clearing, licking its wounds.

       “Alright,” you said, your voice clearly shaking. “It’s free.  Now, can we please go before—”

       A loud howl pierced the air. The bushes around the clearing rustled and the crackling of leaves and sticks soon followed.  You pushed yourself away from the tree line.  You barely noticed when Poe pulled you to your feet and put his body between you and whatever was coming.

       What you feared, came true.  An entire pack of creatures appeared out of the darkness. There were six in total, all looking bigger and even meaner looking than their injured companion.

       The leader was the biggest of them all. He stood exactly opposite of you and Dameron. His head reached your shoulder, and his jaws looked as if they could easily fit two throats in its grasp.

       “Dameron, give me the battery packs,” you said in a low voice.

       “Not yet.”

       The leader crept forward, its shoulder hunched forward.

       “Dameron, give them to me. Now.”

       “Just trust me.”

       BB-8 let out a frightened whistle.

       “Poe!”

       A low whine, cut the air, making the leader stop.

       You turned your head to the sound.  Two of the other creatures had come to the side of the injured one.  It was now standing, if not slightly limping towards the rest of the pack.

       The leader turned his attention away from you and walked towards his friend. All the other members soon followed, sniffing and nudging the injured one as if making sure he was alright.  There were small whines all around which soon turned into playful yaps.

       The leader pulled away first, walking back into the tree line.  The others followed with the injured one in the center.  None of them bothered to look back.

       Silence came once again into the clearing, and you became acutely aware of the pounding of your own heart.  

       “Well, that was fun,” Poe said lightly. He looked to you, his eyes showing concern.  “Are you okay?”

       You took a breath willing your nerves to calm.

       “I would feel better if you let me have my blaster,” you said, dryly.

       Poe smiled, taking your sarcasm as a sign you were just fine.

       “What about you buddy? You doing alright?”

       BB-8 let out an exhausted beep and started rolling its way back to the camp site.

       Poe watched him go, before turning to you and offering his shoulder to lean on.

       You were tempted not to take it, but it was obvious your hands were shaking. You didn’t completely trust them to keep you upright.  You switched your walking stick to your other hand and allowed Dameron to lead you out of the forest.

       You kept silent for a long while.  You weren’t sure how to process what exactly you had just witnessed. Everything about what Dameron had done went completely against common sense and yet, it had worked.  For some reason, he had done exactly the right thing.

       “How did you know it was defending itself?” you finally asked. “You couldn’t have seen the vines at first glance.”

       He looked to you in surprise but answered anyway.

       “Animals tend to act the same as people really.” He shrugged. “They get defensive rather than ask for help when they’re hurt.  Besides, I grew up surrounded by wildlife like this.  I guess you just get used to it.  Unlike you.”

       “Implying what exactly?” you asked, suspiciously.

       He shrugged again. “I don’t know.  I just picture the perfect little soldier in an apartment on Coruscant, surrounded by droids all the time. Probably had your toys alphabetized and everything.”

       Despite circumstances, you caught yourself smiling at the description.

       “Military bases,” you corrected, “but you’re not wrong.”

       “You grew up on a military base?”

       “Training starts young.”

       You said it lightly, but you could feel a new tension in the air at your words. Dameron’s eyes were on you with an unreadable expression.  

       “How young?”

       Your jaw tightened, suddenly regretting your decision to let him lead you back.

       “It’s none of your business.”

       “How old were you?” he pressed. “Sixteen?  Fourteen?”

       You didn’t want to answer him, but you knew he wouldn’t let it go.  

       “Seven.”

       Poe stopped in his tracks.  You didn’t dare look at him.  You knew you wouldn’t see disgust in his eyes, he didn’t have it in him.  No, you feared the pity.

       “That’s not right,” he said.

       There is was, the damn compassion you were finding so hard to fight against. You hated him all the more for it.

       “It’s what needed to be done.  It’s what we had to do to survive.”

       You tried to sound angry, but it came off as forced, and tired.  

       Poe’s rage, however, more than made up for it.

       “To survive? What? Your parents lose their rank in the Empire and then they force their kid to fight their war for them?  I don’t think so.”

       “And whose fault is that?” you snapped, meeting his eye.  “We lost everything, because of you and your rebellion!”

       The anger was coming back, but for the first time, you weren’t sure where it was coming from.  A wave of new emotions was threatening to overtake you, as you clung to the one you understood best.

       “They could have lived in the Republic,” Poe countered. “They could had let you lead a normal life.  Don’t pin this on us.  This is your messed-up family.”

       “That’s rich coming from the child of soldiers.”

       “My parents didn’t force me into an X-Wing to hunt down Emperor sympathizers when I was seven. Kriffing hell, pilot! That is messed up!”

       You opened your mouth ready for some smart response, something that would get him to shut up, to stop leaving you confused, but there was nothing.

       “It’s what we had to do,” was all you could come up with.

       The rage dissipated from his features as he came to a new understanding.

       “So, what?  All the First Order is like you?” he asked.

       “To some variations, but my story is not unusual.”

       His eyes softened, with a voice to match. “I’m sorry.”

       Your throat tightened at his words. You tried swallow it down, but it only caused your eyes to sting with the promise of tears.  It took everything in you to hold them back.  How could he do this to you? How could he make you so weak?

       “Don’t you dare pity me,” you said through gritted teeth.

        “I’m not,” he said, in the same soft tone which left you ruined. “I’m just… You don’t deserve that.  Nobody deserves that.”

       That finally broke you. Any pretense to anger or hatred drained out of you to the point you weren’t sure what was keeping you upright. You were so tired and confused. You could only shake your head. “It’s not a matter of what anyone deserves.  It’s how life is.”

       If Poe had anything to say, he had the good sense to know you didn’t want to hear it.  With a gentle push, you continued on.  

       He kept his mouth shut until you were in light of the camp.  BB-8 had already made himself cozy by the charging station, it just the two of you.  He set you down near the remains of the fire while he pulled out a couple of spare blankets from the survivor’s kit.

       You let him do his work, laying down a make shift bed for each of you on opposite sides of the camp. You didn’t even bother to fight him as he helped you into a sitting position on the ground before going to his side. You thought, maybe you would go the whole night without speaking again.  But, Dameron made a habit out of subverting your expectations.

       “It doesn’t have to be,” he said.

       You turned to him in confusion.  He was laying on his back, staring up into the sky. He felt his eyes on you and continued.

       “Life. It doesn’t have to be this way. Not if you don’t want it to.”

       You weren’t sure what to say to that.  The hope in his tone didn’t annoy you like it did before.  Instead, it made you feel a little sad, like looking upon a child who still didn’t understand the cruelties of the world.

       “I don’t have a choice,” you said, no longer fighting back the exhaustion you felt.

       “Everybody has a choice, pilot.  You just have to realize it’s there.”

       He didn’t say anything more, leaving you in the dark with only your thoughts and his words to fill the void.  Slowly, you drifted off the sleep.

* * *

       The sound of the beacon going off woke you as the sun rose over the horizon. You glanced over to see Poe beside the beacon, looking up into the sky.

       “Commander Dameron,” a voice came through.  “Poe, you down there?”

       Your body shot up even as your heart sank.  It was the Resistance.

       “I hear you loud and clear, Snap,” Poe said.  “Took you guys long enough.”

       “Well, we wanted to catch the scenic route,” the other man joked. “We spotted a crashed Tie-fighter, any survivors?”

       There was a pause.  Poe looked to you, his eyes holding indecision.  The question of your fate hung in the air; would you be taken away as a prisoner or left here to fight another day?

       You refused to beg, but you wouldn’t fight him either.  For some reason, which you were only just starting to understand, you trusted him.  You held your head high, silently putting your life in his hands. He never broke his gaze as he spoke into the comm. “No, it’s just me.”

       “Right, we’ll be down in a few minutes.  Over and out.”

       The comm clicked off leaving a deafening silence between you.

       “You’re not going to tell them about me?” You tried to make it a statement, but the disbelief still entered your tone.

       Poe gave a half smile.  You had the impression he starting to like taking you off guard.

       “I wanted to leave that up to you,” he said simply. “What do you say?  Want to join the bad guys?”

       You couldn’t stop the sad smile from your lips.  He really was an optimistic idiot.

       “No,” you said. “I can’t fight for you Dameron.  And I won’t be your prisoner either.”

       “I can’t just leave you here.”

       “It’s my decision.”

       He looked like he wanted to argue, but he was finally learning there was no point. He nodded his head in begrudging understanding.

       “Well, if you do find a way off this rock and if you do change your mind, get in touch with Maz Kanata.  She’ll know where to find me.”

       “Don’t hold your breath.”  Carefully, you rose to your feet, leaning heavily on one leg as you straightened to attention.  Poe watched you in confusion as you raised your hand to your forehead in a proper salute.

       “I’ll see you in the skies Commander.”

       He blinked in surprise, but then, an odd almost admiring smile came to his lips. He rose to his feet and met you with a salute of his own.

        “See you in the skies, Pilot.”

       You both dropped your hands at the same time, just as the roar of X-Wing fighters flew overhead.  Poe looked to the sky with a smile as they soon found a landing spot not far from where you stood.  The smile didn’t fade until his gaze found yours once more.

       His expression was, a little sad, a little disappointed, but still with that hope you now could only associate with him.

       He gave you one finally nod and headed off into the forest to meet his men with BB-8 right on his heels.  

       You didn’t more from where you stood until you saw the X-Wings rise above the treetops before turning skyward and finally out of sight.  

       It was then you realized, with just a hint of regret, you never did tell him your name.


End file.
